


Rock Music

by Krystalicekitsu



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-07
Updated: 2009-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/Krystalicekitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War in Wutai has reached new heights and poor Zack is being beaten by a radio. I don't envy Sephiroth in the least. Crazy subbordinates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Music

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep deprivation. That's my only excuse.

Zack smacked the side of the weather-worn portable radio that ShinRa had graced them with, frowning at the static that just _refused_ to go away, “Aww, common!”

Sephiroth, by now far too used to the strange antics of his subordinate, only glanced over before returning to his paperwork.

“Ya know, I _swear_ ,” Zack muttered grumpily, “Palmer knows which shipment my stuff comes in; I _never_ get a working radio, no matter how many times I requisition one.”

“Maybe it’s a hint to stop listening to that atrocious music and actually file your reports.” Sephiroth countered mildly.

Zack thought about that for a moment.

“Nah,” he smacked the side of the radio again. He was starting to make a dent, maybe he should switch to the other side…

“’Sides, I think better with music.” The First paused, “And my taste is _NOT_ ‘atrocious’, thank you very much.”

“I never said anything of the sort,” the general signed his name with a flourish, his paperwork done for the day.

Zack tried the top of the small metal box, praying that this time, that _this_ thump would get him the signal he needed, “Hey, have you ever noticed that everyone that ships over hear brings their own ADs, but once they hear Wutaian music, they never touch the things?”

“You’re point? And I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt that you actually _have_ one.” One silver eyebrow arched gracefully.

“I do have a point,” Zack said indignantly, “I was just thinking that maybe next time we attack, we should pump Midgarian rock music out onto the battle field or something. You know, make them freak, if the music is as bad as some of the guys say.”

Sephiroth snorted, “All that you would accomplish is making _both_ sides hate you. Then you would have to dodge a multitude of spells to get it turned off, and we would still be getting a bill from Palmer.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right…” Zack trailed off, his eyes lighting up with what he was sure was a brilliant idea.

Rushing over to where he’d dumped his pack by the tent entrance, he rummaged around, searching for the small item that he knew he’d packed.

“Zack…” Sephiroth began warily, “What are you doing…?”

Zack cackled in triumph as he released the tiny green sphere from its prison in one of his socks, and brandished it like a madman.

“Zack, is that-!”

“He-he-hehe he!” said brunette crooned in victory, dancing over to the radio mounted to one of the tent’s poles. He took up position and began to call the little orb’s power.

“Wait!”

~~~~~~~

The two guards stationed outside the commander’s tent were patient, understanding, and entirely uncurious. They had to be, with a commander as commanding as Sephiroth and a SiC as unorthodox as Zack. Half the time, they spent _not_ hearing things, and the other half they spent wishing they could _not_ -hear-things all the time.

Still, even occasions such as this were rare. Crashes and the sound of broken things were not uncommon (Zack once spent an entire week trying to teach himself to backflip in-doors), but screaming was. Sephiroth was too composed to allow himself to scream.  
So when the two regulars heard not one, but two loud voices, they wisely decided to vacate the premises. And _fast_.

“Seph-“

“Za-“

“Give it-“

“Leave me-“

“Back-“

“NO! I wanted-“

“Stop-“

“HEY!”

“No, Zack! I refuse to let you do this to yourself!”

“Give it here!”

“There are other ways to fix this! Don’t kill yourself over _that_!”

“But- but- I _want_ it! Life’s not the _same_ without it!”

“Shiva-damnit, Zack. It’s _just_ -“

“IT’S NOT ‘ _JUST_ ’ ANYTHING!”

“OUCH, Zack!”

Crash! Bang!

“Sonova-!”

Groan…

“Zack? Zack! No! Don’t put that there!”

“Put what wh-“

The twin howls of pain that tore through the camp were so frightening that, even through Wutai had a _very_ clear picture of their location now, none of the commanders could be convinced to attack. Even ShinRa’s own SOLDIERs stayed clear of that particular tent until the smell of burnt O-zone and human flesh went away. Which took quite some time.

~~~~~~~

It was as they were sitting in the infirmary waiting room that Zack began to get the first idea of how little his superior thought of his latest antic.

Sephiroth’s once pristine person was charred and crinkled in several places, his hair still floating in locations from excess static charge. Still, his glare of the far wall never wavered and Zack was more than positive that his little Lightning materia, clutched firmly in Sephiroth's left hand, wasn’t making it out of this one unscathed. His usually unshakable boss was hunched over, his right elbow firmly planed on the matching knee, and his chin cemented to that palm. Zack wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but he observed several lines of steam rising from his superior’s clothes. Maybe it was just himself, though. He caught another glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room, and silently snickered at the afro he had succeeded in giving himself.

Still, he supposed he owed his boss _some_ sort of apology.

“Uhhh…Seph-“ he began.

“Zack.”

He gulped. Sephiroth did not sound pleased.

“You are here by banned from lis-“ the silver haired man stopped, a wicked thought flickering in front of his eyes. He felt a corner of his mouth twitch.

“No… you are here by _forced_ to listen to music for seven hours each day.”

Zack blinked. No way. It was too good to be true.

“ _Midgarian rock_ music.”

It wasn’t.

If at all possible, the wail of absolute terror was louder than the previous screams of pain.

The Wutaians shuddered.


End file.
